


Reservations

by meaninglessblah



Series: Gift Fics [23]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Anniversary, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Clothed Sex, Cock Rings, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Dry Orgasm, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Groping, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Impact Play, M/M, Masochism, Misunderstandings, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Painplay, Polyamory Negotiations, Praise Kink, Relationship Negotiation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Spanking, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Vibrators, stress positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Slade and Dick take Jason to their favourite restaurant to celebrate their anniversary.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Series: Gift Fics [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960108
Comments: 12
Kudos: 117
Collections: Batfam Kinkmas Exchange 2020





	Reservations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forestgreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestgreen/gifts).



“It was impossible to get a reservation,” Dick is explaining, adjusting his serviette in his lap. Jason’s gaze lingers on the clench of his palm between his thighs before it flicks back up to his thick eyeliner. “I had to flash Bruce’s AmEx before they’d even check their books.” 

When Jason lifts his brow at Slade, whose arm is slung across Dick’s shoulders where they press back to the leather booth seating, the man smirks. “Downside of having a rolodex of personas is that none of them are quite as effective as ‘Richard Grayson-Wayne’.” 

Jason can sympathise with that. It still irks him a little that his most successful persona yet is that of Bruce’s legal son. Like Dick, he’s not above flaunting the clout that comes with it. Jason figures it’s the least he’s owed. 

Dick’s bangles chime dully on the table when he fingers the stem of his wine glass, drawing Jason’s attention back. They’re an odd design, little half-loops weighing them down on each wrist, some sort of hinge mechanism to them. They catch the candlelight whenever Dick puts his hands on the table, accenting his long fingers and lean forearms. 

Dick really is something beautiful when he’s in motion. Sure, he’s an eyecatcher on the front of every tabloid, smiling out of every family photo with a perfect grin and warm eyes. But no one truly appreciates Dick Grayson until they see the man in movement. Jason’s spent hours just kissing the shift of muscles beneath that tanned skin, the ripple and roll of desire through his flesh. 

He moves like silk moves through water, weightless and graceful, every shift a conversation between body and environment. Jason knows he’s aware of it on some level, but he doesn’t think Dick grasps just how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he can be doing something as simple as shifting in his seat, legs crossing beneath the crisp white tablecloth. How much of a privilege it was to be invited to share the man’s bed, to see that beauty up close. 

It makes Jason’s mouth run a little dry, tongue dipping out to wet his lips. It offsets the urge to press a kiss to the roll of those tanned biceps where they brush Jason’s own arm. 

Dick’s wearing a halter neck top that draws the eyes to the ridges of his collarbones and the broad sweep of his shoulders. When he leans an elbow forward onto the table, Jason’s gaze skirts down the curve of that flexible spine and into the dimples above the line of his low cut leather pants. 

Slade’s watching him when he looks up, drawing a flush onto Jason’s cheeks as he averts his gaze back to the parchment pages of the menu. He clears his throat hastily, to ask, “So what’s the occasion?” 

The mercenary smiles, slow and knowing, and adjusts the expensive watch on his wrist. He blends into the decor of the restaurant, perfectly at home amidst the sparkling crystal wine glasses and fine china. Tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders and the sharp cut of his waist, candlelight dancing off the toe of his polished shoe where it pokes from beneath the tablecloth. 

Jason almost feels underdressed. He’d worn his nicest pair of jeans, the pair that are one size too small and cling like Saran wrap to his thighs. He only owns one collared shirt - a deep burgundy red button-up that he’s rolled up to his elbows out of nervous habit. He’d considered buying a new wardrobe when Dick had phoned him to invite him to dinner, and then he’d decided they’d be happy to have him in whatever he wore. 

Jason had seesawed back and forth on that sentiment for the whole week leading up to the reservation. It seems to be the theme of his life ever since he started this relationship, dancing around this undefined thing they have going on. 

Dick had been the one to initiate it, though Jason’s hardly surprised. Dick’s always the sort to leap first and adjust in the fall. He certainly smoothed over the first few fumbling times, when Jason was still familiarising himself with the two men and their dynamic. Sharing a bed with his childhood idol and a mercenary who by all rights was as old as his father was nerve-wracking at the best of times. 

Slade’s been more than accommodating of Jason in the bedroom. From the moment the pair had beckoned him in, they’d made it clear that their interest in him was mutual, their inclination shared. Slade especially had gone out of his way (as much as the stubborn bastard could, anyway) to ensure Jason never felt secondary to their own desires. 

But outside those four walls, the distinction is more muddied. Jason’s not sure how far Slade’s charity extends, whether he’s comfortable with another man’s lips on his little bird in public. The mercenary has a possessive streak a mile wide, and while he seems perfectly content to relax that boundary with Jason in close quarters, in more formal settings like this, there’s no telling how he’d react. 

Dick leans his chin into his palm, and Jason watches the bangle slide down his forearm an inch. “We wanted to spend some time with you, little wing. We’ve hardly gotten to see you lately.” 

Jason feels a bubble of warmth in his chest, and ruthlessly quashes it. He’s not a part of their relationship, and it’d been clear when they’d started that romance didn’t factor into it. He’d been after a good fuck, and they’d been keen to introduce a new element into their love life. That was that. Pretending it was anything more sentimental was just setting himself up for failure. 

“It’s also our anniversary,” Slade adds with a smirk, and Jason starts. 

Something in his stomach stings a little at the reminder. “Congratulations.” 

“We figured it was cause for celebration,” Dick agrees, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. His hips shift restlessly on the leather seating, drawing Slade’s distracted eye. Dick’s gaze doesn’t part from Jason, though, warm and inviting. “And we couldn’t celebrate without you, little wing.” 

“Right,” Jason says, though he doesn’t believe it. He’s sure they’d be more than happy going to a restaurant on their own for an anniversary date, or any number of romantic venues. There was really no reason to invite him unless they intend to spend the hours afterwards with him in their bed, and were too polite to make him wait in the car. 

Satisfied, Dick flips open the menu, and Jason follows suit. The waitress arrives and takes their drinks order, returning with a basket of bread and dips that they pick at over idle conversation. Jason’s just starting to settle into the flow of it when Dick returns to the elephant in the room. 

“Sorry to make everything so formal,” he apologies, gesturing to the restaurant at large. There’s no one around them, their table tucked into a private alcove. Jason can only just make out the low murmurs of couples at other tables. “But we really did want to treat you to something special for the occasion.” 

“ _Me?_ ” Jason says with an incredulous grin, and adjusts his napkin over his knee. “That’s pretty generous of you. Wish everyone was this magnanimous with their anniversaries.” 

A strange frown graces Dick’s brow, confusion marring those bright blue eyes. “Why wouldn’t we be?” he presses. 

Jason reaches for another piece of bread and waves it between the pair of them. “I figured you two would want some privacy. I’m glad to have been invited though,” Jason rushes to add, flashing them a sheepish smile, “don’t get me wrong. The food in this place is great, and I’m more than happy to pull my weight.” 

Dick glances aside at Slade, something unspoken passing between them that gives Jason pause. 

“What?” Jason asks, worried he’s misspoken. 

“Kid, what do you think this is?” Slade asks, both sets of eyes swinging back to pin him in place. Jason shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and shrugs. 

“Your anniversary dinner,” he says with as much confidence as he can muster. That’s what Slade had said it was. 

“ _Whose_ anniversary, little wing?” Dick presses, stirring the anxiety blooming in Jason’s stomach. 

“You and Slade’s, Dickie,” Jason answers, and watches them blink blankly at him. He sets the bread down and opens his palms placatingly. “I figured you wanted to have some fun afterwards, something special in the bedroom to celebrate.” 

Slade turns his head away and scoffs loudly. Jason’s eyes flick to him and back to Dick, who hasn’t looked away. 

“I’m flattered you’d want to include me in your dinner,” Jason adds, “but it’s not necessary, honestly. If you two want the evening to yourself, I can leave you be and meet up back at the apartment.” 

“Kid,” Slade says sharply, something incredulous to his tone as he turns back to hold Jason’s gaze with a critical eye. “Grayson and I have been dating for nearly eighteen months.” 

Jason frowns, but doesn’t follow. “So what’s this dinner for then?” 

“ _Our_ anniversary,” Dick repeats, gesturing between his own chest and Jason’s. Surprise sizzles sharply on the back of Jason’s tongue at his earnest expression. “You, me and Slade. One year since we started doing this.” 

It’s just like him to lose all grasp on his filter, because the next thing out of Jason’s dumbstruck mouth is, “Fucking?” 

Slade barks a sharp laugh, and leans an elbow on the table. “Yes, kid, fucking. And everything else we’ve done since then. I thought _you_ were the romantic here.” 

He’s not grasping something obvious, that much Jason can tell, but what it is alludes him. Dick looks like he’s stifling a small laugh, though Slade’s humour is clear. “I don’t understand,” he admits. 

“Little wing, what do you think this is?” 

“This relationship?” Jason clarifies. 

“Yes.” 

Jason struggles not to shrug, shifting his weight awkwardly. He feels self-conscious, feels like there might be a blush warming his features. Feels out of place next to Dick and Slade’s calm composures. 

“You call me when you want to try something new in the bedroom. Or just want to change up the dynamics, I guess. I figured the morning after breakfast and shower routine was a courtesy.” 

Slade looks like Jason’s just told him that Superman doubles as an underpaid journalist in his spare time. There’s a caged anger behind his dismay, his lips twisted down as he leans forward to hold Jason’s gaze with his own steady eye. “Kid. You’re not a booty call. You’re not a sex toy we call up when we get bored.” 

“You’re much more than that, little wing,” Dick says, fingers winding around Jason’s hand on the table. “You mean so much more to us, to _both_ of us.” 

Jason blinks, letting the words settle in the back of his head before he speaks. “I thought you only liked me for the sex.” 

“Gosh, Jay, no,” Dick hisses, brows drawing together. Jason has the unfounded urge to press the creases away with his thumb. Dick lifts the hands that they have intertwined on the tablecloth, pecking a quick kiss to his middle knuckle. “Of course we like you for more than just the sex. We like _you,_ Jason.” 

“Yeah, kid,” Slade agrees bluntly, though there’s a mirth filtered back into his icy gaze. “Sex comes and sex goes. Do you seriously think I would have put up with you for a year if I didn’t think we were compatible on some level?” 

Dick shoots him a chastising glare, but strangely enough, the gruff incredulity of the words is like a shunt for his tight lungs. He laughs, high and a little giddy at first, before it all catches up with him, and then he’s lifting his free hand to stifle the giggles in his palm. 

Dick’s smiling again, eyes bright and warm where they flicker over his face. “Slade’s right. We’re here to celebrate with you, little wing, because we like _you._ And,” he adds, tongue swiping out to wet his lips in the first true sign of nervousness Jason’s seen in the man for years, “we wanted to take the opportunity to ask you if you wanted to make… _this,_ more permanent?” 

Jason stills, glancing between them, but both their expressions are carefully guarded deference. Waiting for his answer, whatever he wishes it to be. The blatant, easy trust is a balm on his frayed nerves. 

“Permanent how?” he hedges, though he’s pretty sure what his answer is going to be. 

Dick glances up at Slade, who slides his broad palm down his thigh and offers, “We make the relationship official. All three of us. You call yourself ours, and we call ourselves yours. And, if you’re feeling up to it, you move in with us, to the apartment. At least semi-permanently.” 

Jason exhales, slow and measured. His head is spinning a little, but he’s willing to chalk it up to the way his heart is pounding in his chest like a drum, blood whizzing through his veins like electricity. 

“Yeah,” Jason croaks, and then clears his throat, nodding earnestly. “Yes, I’d like that.” 

Dick looks immediately relieved, features blooming with elation. But it’s Slade’s small, reassured exhale that he tries to hide in a sip of whiskey that really confirms for Jason just how much they want this too. 

“Thank Christ,” Slade mutters, and sets the glass back on the table. “For a second there I was worried your present was going to go to waste.” 

Jason glances between them. “You got me a present?” 

Dick shrugs. Jason wouldn’t call it sheepish, but there’s definitely an edge of coyness to it. “Well, I volunteered to be your present, in a manner of sorts.” 

Jason can feel the heat in the tips of his ears as he drags his gaze down the front of Dick, admiring the curve of him where he’s reclined in the booth seat. Dick shivers beneath his heavy gaze, as affected by the attention as Jason is by him. 

“Show me,” Jason says. 

Slade smirks, meeting Dick’s glance with a wry grin as Dick settles back, breaths thin. The mercenary shuffles closer, hooking an arm around Dick’s shoulders as he crowds the man, until there’s nowhere Dick can go without brushing up against one of them. 

Then he reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulls free a familiar remote, thumbing it on and setting it on the table between them. Dick jolts sharply, hips ricocheting upwards only to be stopped by the arm across his back, thighs clenching tight together as he exhales roughly. 

Jason’s mouth dries at the realisation that Dick’s already prepped, has been this entire time, sitting on their little secret. Heat stirs in the base of his spine, tightening at the image of Dickie bent over Slade’s lap while he’d pushed the vibe into the man’s hole, Jason’s name on their lips. The way they’d rearranged their clothing, not a single thing out of place when they’d picked Jason up from his safehouse. A secret for him, and him only. 

Jason watches Slade’s broad palm track down the curve of Dick’s inner thigh, callouses catching on the leather as he eases the man’s legs open. Dick draws in a tremulous breath, eyes alight as he stares down at the man’s progress, the drag of a crooked knuckle over the seam. When he grips the vigilante’s groin, Dick whines softly, hips flexing into his touch as his head tilts back over the booth seats. 

“Tell him, little bird,” the mercenary purrs, that low, gravelly timbre stirring the heat in Jason’s own stomach. He can only imagine the effect it’s having on Dick, as tightly wound as he is. “How many days since you’ve touched yourself?” 

“Three,” Dick gasps, dark locks feathering across the leather as he arches, the motion smothered by Slade’s large grip. Dick gives him a soft, needy whine, blue eyes sliding to fix on Jason. “Since I called you.” 

“Why three days, little bird?” 

Dick sucks in a sharp breath when Slade worries a finger into the seat of his pants, stroking at the stuffed hole beneath. “Wanted to wait for you, Jay,” Dick says, words stumbling out of his mouth as the flush rises on his cheeks. “Didn’t want to start without you. Don’t want to start - _ah_ \- anything without you. Little wing, please-” 

“What do you say, kid?” Slade asks, tapping the remote once, idly, on the tablecloth. “You ready for something more, or you want us to tone it down a bit?” 

He’s not talking about the device pulsing away inside Dick. Jason's face feels hot beneath the attention, veins humming with the offer behind those words. 

Jason swallows, mouth dry and skin overwarm. He licks his lips once, stalling, and croaks, “More.” 

Dick tosses his head into the crook of Slade’s neck and shoulder, nails biting viciously at the leather upholstery when Slade ups the ante. Jason can just begin to hear the faint buzz of the toy, muffled beneath the leather and the press of their bodies. 

The tight little keen Dick releases against Slade’s skin isn’t muffled though, and it tugs behind Jason’s navel like a palpable force as Dick ruts fruitlessly. 

Jason’s mesmerised by the flex of the man’s hips, the little twitches of his fingers as he curbs the urge to reach down and touch himself through the leather pants. “He’s gonna jizz himself,” Jason murmurs, blushing immediately when he realises how crude it sounds. 

Dick tosses his head with a moan that sounds obnoxiously loud in the muted ambience of the restaurant. But when Jason hastily scans the other tables, no one has even glanced in their direction. 

“No, he won’t,” Slade says with brute confidence, and dials the device up another few notes. Dick whines, high and trapped in his throat, and lifts a hand to clap to his mouth. 

Jason catches his wrist before he makes it, threading their fingers and pinning it forcefully to the couch between them as Dick keens needily. 

Slade strokes his fingers, featherlight, up the curve of Dick’s cock where it’s beginning to fill out the front of his pants. Then he takes Dick’s other wrist, circling his long fingers the whole way around the limb before he tugs it down too, leaving the man between them exposed. 

“Hey, kid,” Slade says, tone just the barest bit tight. That singular pupil is blown though, black chewing through that grey-blue with a vengeance as he surveys the panting bird between them. “How about you give him some fingers to suck on, hmm?” 

Jason can feel heat crawl up his spine at the words, but he shifts obediently closer, until Dick’s thigh is pressed to his own, trembling minutely through his jeans. Then he takes Dick’s chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting the man’s head down off the seat to meet his gaze. 

Dick’s cheeks are flushed bright, glowing beneath the dim lights as he chews his lip and stares at Jason like he’s an anchor in a storm. Jason trails fingers up over his cheekbones, tucking some hair behind his ear; taking his time before he drags his fingernails back down Dick’s clean-shaven jawline, just to drag the man’s torment out farther. 

When his digits slide past Dick’s lips, the man takes them greedily, lashes fluttering shut. He pushes further down to the knuckle, sucking hard as Jason gasps at the enthusiasm. After a moment of stunned inactivity, Jason grinds the pads of his fingers down the man’s tongue, muffling the moan that spills up Dick’s throat. 

“That’s it, Dickie,” he murmurs, “take it.” 

A sob hiccups in the acrobat’s throat, hips jerking against the seat as his wrists flex. Jason can hear the thrum of the toy inside him, can’t fathom how no one else has heard what they’re up to yet. The alcove offers them nearly perfect privacy; maybe that was why Dick had been dead set on getting a reservation here. 

The longer they sit there, Jason’s fingers fucking lazily into Dick’s mouth as he shudders and ruts shallowly off the seat, the more the heat swells in Jason’s gut. 

“He’s going to come,” Jason mutters with stunned awe, studying Dick’s features. He knows them by rote now, knows how they look at the height of his climax, and what they look like exactly before. Knows every tell the man’s body has to offer, watches them dial up to eleven when Slade reaches down to cup the front of his pants firmly, fingers massaging where the head of the man’s cock must be. 

Dick screams, the sound numbed by the tight vice his lips have on Jason’s dual digits, shoulders rolling as he tries to fight back the inevitable. 

“You want to come, little bird?” Slade murmurs, reaching down to kiss the shell of Dick’s ear. A shudder ripples bodily up his spine as Dick nods furiously, eyes slitting open to hold Slade’s gaze, to plead with the last tool he has left. “Go ahead.” 

Jason swears Dick’s eyes roll when he releases, shaking at the height of his orgasm, lips slackening on his fingers as he winds tight. Slade palms him through it, eye drinking down every twitch of skin, every heave of the man’s chest. 

Dissatisfaction follows swiftly, frustration evident in every harsh line of the man’s body as Dick slumps bonelessly into the upholstery. It’s only once Dick’s settled that Slade turns the device off, releasing the vigilante’s wrist in tandem. Jason can only stare, mouth dry, as Dick trembles through the aftershocks, trying to catch his breath. His eyes trail down Dick’s body, hesitating on the outline of cock just visible through the tight leather. 

“How the hell is he supposed to sit through dinner with a mess like that?” Jason asks aloud. He knows as well as anyone how uncomfortable it can feel, how eager he usually is to shed the soiled garments as quickly as possible. 

He withdraws his fingers from Dick’s slack mouth, wiping the spit off on his jeans as he watches Dick scowl irritably. 

Slade just reaches for his whiskey and takes a languid sip. “There isn’t going to be a mess.” 

Jason stares, cogs turning in his head before he glances down the line of Dick’s body again and guesses, “He came dry?” 

Dick groans, grinding his thighs together as he straightens back into a sit. He looks worn out, looks almost like he’s been fucked, hair a little damp with sweat and skin glowing warm. Jason aches to get his lips on him. 

Slade’s smiling when Jason’s gaze swivels to him, mouth running dry. “You wanna go out back and see what we’re working with?” 

Jason’s nodding, but he can’t hear over the thunder of his pulse in his ears. Slade just leans over to loop an arm around Dick’s waist, breaking the hold Jason has on his fingers when he eases Dick to his feet and out from the booth. 

They pause in the walkway to wait for Jason to rise, Slade’s huge palm splayed over the small of Dick’s back, one finger hooked in a belt loop. When Jason approaches, he hears Slade ask him, low and quiet, against the corner of Dick’s jaw, “How’re you holding up, little bird?” 

“I want,” Dick mutters back, hands fisting around Slade’s belt to pull himself closer, until he can grind surreptitiously against the older man’s thigh, “to _really_ come.” 

Slade grins, and beckons Jason closer, hooking an arm across his back, his touch gently firm between Jason’s shoulder blades as he steers them towards the bathroom. Jason can’t help but blush as they pass the other tables, convinced that they can smell the embarrassment on him. 

Dick keeps a remarkably brisk pace, especially now that Jason knows he has a toy nestled in his ass, rubbing against his prostate with every stride. He’s the first into the bathroom, shoving open the door at the end of the corridor and reaching back to drag Jason after him, Slade on their heels. 

The floor is huge slabs of marble tile, white and gold, every surface reflecting the bright blue of Dick’s shirt and the gleam in his eyes. They barely falter on their path past the sinks, Dick’s chin high under the gaze of a curious spectator who swivels to watch them. 

“Go somewhere else,” Slade growls at the sole patron, who hastily zippers himself and makes a speedy retreat from the urinals. 

Dick pulls Jason into one of the back stalls - though ‘stall’ is hardly accurate. It’s a small room, with a spacious vanity and immaculate white towels stacked on its surface. Dick nudges them to the floor to make room when he boosts himself up onto the counter, yanking Jason down to meet his lips with both hands on his face. 

Jason feels him bleat a startled note when their lips collide, opening his eyes to note the way Dick’s entire body is clenched, brow furrowed as he negotiates with the toy inside him. His eager sit must have jammed it hard against his prostate, and Jason grins at the realisation, reaching down to palm Dickie’s ass. He drags the man to the edge of the counter, knocking his thighs open around Jason’s hips as he chases Dick’s tongue with teeth. 

“Aren’t you two lovebirds just a pretty sight,” Slade comments with a wry smirk, turning the snub on the door as he enters. Dick pulls back just far enough to catch his breath, lips red and swollen as he traces Jason’s cheekbones with his thumbs, fingers curled in his hair. 

“Hurry up if you don’t want to miss out,” he throws back with a blinding smile, and Jason takes the moment of distraction to dive for Dick’s throat, nipping down the line of his pulse as Dick groans. 

Slade just strolls past them to tug the complimentary stool closer to the door. Jason keeps one eye on him as he kisses over Dick’s collarbones, watching the mercenary calmly take his seat and lean back against the wall, thighs spread provocatively. He’s a picture of carefully restrained power, and the latent threat in that pose makes Jason’s gut clench. 

The older man tilts his throat open, eye amused. “How about you come here, boy?” 

Both of them still, and Slade laughs when the both respond, limbs knocking in their haste to obey his order. He and Dick cross the room together, attentive as they wait for Slade’s slow gaze to roam over them. 

Then Slade glances up at Jason, that gaze locking on him like a laser. It makes the world warp around that singular focus, all of Jason coiling tight with the sensation of being hunted. 

The mercenary crooks a single finger, wordless, and then lowers his palms to his lap. 

Jason gets the message loud and clear, stepping briskly up so he can swing a leg over Slade’s thighs, lower himself into the man’s lap with an unsteady exhale. Those thighs could be made from cords of steel, for all they give beneath Jason’s considerable bulk. He leaves a foot between them, unsure how Slade wants them. 

He doesn’t seem to mind the distance, an approving nod tipping his chin as Jason settles. 

That piercing eye fixes on Dick, and Slade flicks a finger at the tile beneath his feet, the watch shifting on the bones of his wrist. “I want you kneeling here, little bird,” he instructs, and Dick folds to the floor without a moment’s delay. 

Jason can’t help the way his eyes drift to the sway of Dick’s hips as he crawls over the tile, leather clinging to the curves of his ass until he’s sitting at Slade’s feet, face upturned to them both. Slade reaches down to thumb at his lip, and then turns the man to the side. 

“Hands and knees, boy,” he instructs. “Right here.” 

Understanding dawns on Dick’s features, and then heated intrigue as he turns himself to suit Slade’s whims, palms flat to the tile. Jason’s gaze traces the line of his spine, the way it dips to accommodate Slade’s dress shoes when he sets them on the man’s back. That dark head of hair dips, a soft sigh easing from Dick’s lungs as he adjusts his stance to suit. 

“Think you can hold that, little bird?” Slade tosses down, but his eye is already back on Jason, hands already sliding over Jason’s jeans to wrap around his hips. 

“Yes, sir,” Dick promises from the tile. 

Slade hums an approval, tugging Jason deeper into his lap, smirking at the hitch in his breathing. Jason can’t tear his gaze off the man’s mouth, mesmerised as he leans forward to claim Jason’s lips, rough and aggressive. 

It’s all Jason can do to grip the mercenary’s shoulders hard, lips parting to allow him to press inside, his tongue fucking into Jason’s mouth as one ringed hand cups the back of his head. He feels trapped, completely within the man’s unyielding control, and it makes Jason’s blood thrum with excitement. 

When Jason’s fairly sure he’s going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Slade pulls back, rolling Jason’s hips beneath his palms. His lips tingle in the absence, breaths coming sharp and aroused as the mercenary palms his ass brazenly. 

It’s only when Slade’s eye slides down and amusement curls the corner of his mouth that Jason remembers Dick, pivoting to glance down at the man. 

He’s still on his hands and knees beneath them, though he’s turned to watch them with bare-faced arousal, lips parted like he’s imagining one of them on him. Dick doesn’t shy when Jason flushes, the muscles in his arms flexing as he bears the weight on his back with perfect posture. 

“Enjoying yourself down there, little bird?” 

Dick nods slowly, once. “I’d enjoy it more,” he murmurs, soft and reverent as he blinks back the daze, “if I wasn’t playing footstool on a dirty bathroom floor.” 

He hisses sharply when Slade digs a heel into his back, spine bowing beneath the pain as he bares teeth. Those blue eyes flash, but he just resumes his pose beneath Slade’s feet, pouting down at the tile in silence. 

Slade scoffs and turns his attentions back to Jason, letting one hand trail up to slip up under his shirt. His callouses drag over the ridges of Jason’s abdomen, canting up at his sternum to tease over a nipple and stop the air in Jason’s lungs. 

He looks pleased at the response, circling the nub as Jason bites his lip and arches into the touch. “What do you think, boy?” he asks, pitching his voice in a way that tells Jason it’s as much for Dick’s benefit as his own. “What do you think we should do to our little bird this evening?” 

If Jason had a coherent thought left in his skull, it abandons him the instant he tries to coax a single fantasy to the forefront of his mind. It’s not until Slade pinches his nipple sharply that Jason hisses and returns to the moment, sifting through the fog cloaking his senses. 

“Something memorable,” Jason murmurs, hips stuttering involuntarily when Slade shifts to stroke over the other bud. “An anniversary present.” 

Slade’s grin is barely more generous than a smirk. He lifts a hand to grasp Jason by the back of the neck, pull him close enough to meet the mercenary’s lips. Nothing more than a sharp nip before he answers, “Sweet thing, he _is_ the anniversary present.” 

Jason holds the man’s gaze, his core glowing with the challenge. “Then maybe I should unwrap him.” 

That smile grows, ever more wicked in its charm. Slade smacks him once on the ass, settling back against the wall to watch the proceedings from his makeshift throne. 

“How about you strip him down so we can see what we’re working with?” Slade suggests, and Jason doesn’t miss the shiver that travels down Dick’s bared back. He pushes to his feet, fingers brushing Slade’s chest when he swings off his lap. 

He circles Dick slowly, making sure the man can hear every one of Jason’s footfalls as Slade withdraws his legs to watch with quiet rapture. Dick keeps his head bowed and his hands planted on the tile, ears strained towards Jason’s approach. 

Jason lets himself kneel, slow and steady, behind the bird. He takes his time, running open palms up the front of his thighs, curling a hand past his hip to squeeze his cock through his pants. Dick groans softly, grinding down into the touch before Slade gives him a reprimanding _cluck_ of his tongue, and Dick assumes his assigned position. 

Jason doesn’t torment him for much longer, guiding his hands up to trace over the strip of tanned skin peeking beneath Dick’s shirt. He lets his fingers curl under that waistband on either side of Dick’s hips. Peels the straining leather over the curve of that beautiful ass, wrestling the material down to Dick’s thighs. Almost to his knees, until Jason has an unobstructed view of him. 

Through the spread of Dick’s legs, he can see where the man’s cock and balls hang heavy. But more importantly, he can see the two bands looped around his shaft and behind his sac - Jason’s signature colour bright against Dick’s swollen length. 

It makes heat rush to Jason’s face, makes him reach down to trace a finger down the underside of Dick’s flushed cock. He groans, thighs trembling a little as Jason toys with the cock rings, marvelling at how tight they are around his stiff length. 

It’s no wonder Dick was able to come entirely dry, with those bands strangling his balls. Jason lets his finger dip into the man’s slit before tracking back down the shaft, cleaving through the middle of his sac on its path up to his perineum. Dick’s head drops between his shoulders when Jason massages two fingers into the sensitive skin, smirking when Dick’s knees twitch together before steadying. 

Then he sweeps higher, fingers dipping into Dick’s hole to close on the slim toy lodged inside him. It comes out with the wet squelch of lube, the sound tugging behind Jason’s navel as he admires the length of the piece before setting it aside on the tile. 

He pauses when Slade shifts, reaching into his pocket to draw out a small capsule that Jason catches on automatic. He nearly flushes at the sight of the lube in his palm, but wastes no time in slicking up his fingers before tossing it onto the counter. 

“Get the slut ready for me, boy,” Slade commands, both of them tensing around the swirl of need that low timbre evokes. Jason doesn’t hesitate to shove his digit into Dick’s needy hole, adding a second when that proves too easy. 

Fucking his fingers into Dick’s ass, Jason reaches a clean hand past those tilted-up hips to tug at the bow cinching the man’s halterneck, letting it tumble down to the tile when he pulls it free from its knot. Dick exhales shakily, clearly affected, as the shirt hangs free to expose those bitten collarbones and handsome chest. 

When Jason glances over, Slade’s eyes are on the man, drinking down the blush that’s slowly spreading down his now-bared neck. So Jason lifts a palm to wrap around it, gripping tight enough to bruise as he leverages Dick up into a high kneel, fingers still fucking into his hole. 

Dick groans at the treatment, letting his open hands fall limp to his sides as Jason presents him to the room, slipping in a third finger without preamble. Dick arches, hips curling forward and then grinding back into Jason’s touch as he moans loudly. 

“That’s it,” Slade praises, as much for Jason’s benefit as for Dick’s. When Jason hooks his chin over Dick’s shoulder to watch to roll a nipple beneath the flat of his thumb, Slade prompts, “How about you show him that pretty jewellery of yours, little bird?” 

For a moment, Jason thinks he’s talking about the cock rings, still cinched tight around Dick’s hardening length. But then Dick hums a needy note and nods, uncurling his fingers where they’re fisted in the leather of his pants. 

Jason leans back a little to give him the room he needs to draw his hands into the small of his back, crossing his wrists over the dimples on either side of his spine. The silver metal chimes softly in the quiet, and suddenly Jason understands the purpose of the little clasps attached to each. 

The slide of Jason’s fingers out of Dick’s clenching hole earns him a low moan, and Jason wipes them deftly on the soft material of Dick’s shirt before sweeping fingertips down the length of the man’s arms. The mechanism is simple enough, and Jason thumbs the slip-lock into place once the hoops are interconnected. He’s sure Dick could easily slide the catches back open and break free, but without determined effort, they’re unlikely to release. 

Hooking fingers into the narrow space between wrist and bangle confirms that the metal is some composite alloy, sturdy and robust to withstand any rough thrashing. With a nice bite of bruises to remember the helplessness by. 

From those captive wrists, Jason’s hand graduate to Dick’s hips to steady him when he guides the man up to his feet, turning him to face Slade. With nipples exposed on his bared chest and pants tugged down to his thighs. 

Jason doesn’t hesitate to slip back down into a crouch, unzipping Dick’s boots with efficient care. He sets them aside on the tile, reaching up to slide the leather pants down to his ankles as Dick stands and shivers beneath Slade’s survey. He steps out of the material when Jason coaxes him, toes splaying on the cold tile when he steadies himself. 

“He can lose the shirt too,” Slade comments as Jason’s hands sweep up the backs of those bared thighs, pausing briefly to knead that ass before his fingers find the hooks holding what remains of Dick’s shirt together. 

They remind Jason of bra hooks, drawing a soft laugh to his throat as he crooks his head to press lips to Dick’s shoulder. The shirt falls away when the last is undone, tumbling down to the tile to bare the man wholly. 

Dick’s gaze hasn’t parted from Slade’s awaiting instruction as he back reclines on his stool, casual as ever. His breathing is just the barest bit shallow though, all of him coiled for what comes next. Then Slade’s icy gaze snaps up to Jason, pinning him in place. 

“How about you show me your progress, boy,” Slade suggests. It’s ridiculous what that even tone can do to him. 

Jason laces his fingers through the grooves of Dick’s ribs, smiling at the man’s tell. Dickie is especially ticklish down his sides, adores when Jason scratches nails down the sensitive skin, leaves bright red stripes as the vigilante writhes on the sheets. 

He turns Dick swiftly, barely letting him catch himself with some quick footwork before he reaches up to capture the man’s chin between thumb and forefinger. Dick stills, pretty blues fixed on Jason’s smirk as he smooths a palm down the length of Dick’s spine, past the cold metal of his makeshift cuffs to grope at one cheek. 

Dick shivers when he pulls that cheek open, baring that slicked, worked-open hole for Slade to assess. Slade looks pleased beneath the fluorescents, reaching out to nudge the man’s legs open, first with firm fingers on his thighs and then with the edge of his shoe against Dick’s bare feet. 

Dick takes the treatment without complaint, until his legs are spread a few feet apart. The cool air in the bathroom must be a tease on his exposed hole, but Dick bears it, gaze fixed on Jason when he rolls one of those rosy lips beneath his thumb. 

“I want you to stay like that, little bird,” Slade murmurs, settling back to watch the show. “And show Red how grateful you are for his company.” 

Jason smiles slow, excitement bubbling in his veins. They both know exactly where Slade’s going with this, have had enough trysts in their shared bed to know that Dick gives a blowjob unlike any other, and Jason’s never once turned one down. 

He reaches down to palm his cock, groaning at the rush of sensation before he pops the button and tugs the zipper of his jeans down. He knows Dick has a talented tongue, and that he could probably undo them even without the use of his hands; but sue Jason if he’s a little eager to move things along. Dick certainly doesn’t complain, eyes slipping down to watch Jason’s progress as he thumbs back the waistband of his briefs to draw the length of his cock out. 

The heat that pools in Dick’s blown pupils at the sight of Jason’s cock does wicked things to his self-control. It’s all Jason can do to hold himself steady as Dick leans forward to kiss the tip, tongue dashing out to lap at the head with practiced care. 

He’s a tease and a half, but for once, Dick doesn’t draw out his torment long before he’s pressing down onto Jason’s cock, drawing the length into his mouth to work his tongue along the underside. Jason feels like his ribcage is locked in an iron grip, all of him aching towards the point where his cock disappears between Dick’s pretty lips. 

He’s so lost to it that he barely notices Slade pushing to his feet with a rustle of clothing. Dick certainly tenses at the movement, but doesn’t pause in his ministrations, working more of Jason’s shaft into his mouth as he goes. 

Slade reaches down between Dick’s legs, finding the rings by rote and yanking hard. They snap audibly, the crack of broken rubber reverberating around the room as Dick groans loudly around Jason’s cock. 

Benefits of metahuman strength, Jason muses as Slade tosses the scraps to the side and reaches down to knead the little bird’s balls. Dick rocks up onto his toes with a sharp whine, arms twisting a little against his spine until Slade traps those in one hand too. 

Slade whistles softly, stroking the ring of his fingers down Dick’s rapidly filling length. “I think we can get another orgasm out of you yet, little bird. How about you choke yourself on Jason’s cock, and I’ll consider letting you come?” 

Dick nods around the obstruction, and no sooner has Slade withdrawn from between his legs than Dick is slackening his jaw, lashes fluttering as he angles himself to force Jason’s cock down his narrow throat. Jason groans at the sight, at the wet close of the muscle around the head of his cock as Dick strains to take him further, to hold himself down. 

He’s so invested in the way Dick swallows around his member that he doesn’t think to look at what Slade is up to until Dick moans desperately and shudders hard, eyes watering when they open. Jason glances up in time to see the older man feeding his cock into Dick’s prepped hole, two fingers wrapped tight around the join of his cuffs to pull Dick back to meet the length. 

He takes it like a dream, body relaxing around both intrusions as Jason rocks into his throat. A thrill spirals through him, when he sees Dick sway between them, bouncing on Slade’s cock only to take more of Jason into him too. 

Slade doesn’t waste time, pressing forward inexorably until he’s seated in the acrobat, the toes of his polished shoes nudging Dick’s heels open further. Jason watches the tremble travel down Dick’s stressed legs, knees wavering as Slade wraps a hand over his hip and begins thrusting into him. 

Dick moans loud around Jason, teasing his sensitive length with the vibration as Slade’s ferocity shoves him deeper into the bird’s throat. It’s an exceptional sight, watching Dickie take them both so readily, so _eagerly,_ all of him pliant and needy beneath their touches. 

He must be aching, with how Slade’s pounding into him. Jason wouldn’t be surprised to find Dick leaking onto the tile with how hard he shivers at the harsh treatment, slurping down Jason’s cock with abandon. It’s nearly enough to undo him, and Jason focuses on the close of the lips, on centering himself to hold out against Dick’s attention. He’s sure the man is almost as aware as Jason of how close he is to the precipice. 

Slade grunts, twisting the cuffs in his grip to force Dick into a breathless arch. “Come here, boy,” he instructs, beckoning Jason over with a tip of his chin. Jason doesn’t doubt for a second that he’s paying just as much attention as Dick, orchestrating this session to draw them both out as long as possible. 

Jason grinds down once more on Dick’s tongue, memorising the clutch of that velvet heat before he withdraws to walk around to Slade’s side. Dick’s head dips, his breathing ragged as Jason’s gaze travels down to watch the clench of his hole around Slade’s thick member. It’s a gut-wrenching sight, the way Dick’s hole is stretched around the cock buried in his ass. 

Slade’s hand constricts on Dick’s hip as he rocks into the man, working bruises into his tanned skin as Jason stares. “Why don’t you add another finger, boy?” 

It’s not a request. Jason glances up at Slade, throat running dry at the prospect before he fumbles blindly for the discarded bottle of lube on the vanity counter. 

Slade groans loudly when he drizzles some of the cold liquid over the base of his shaft, but it’s not nearly as vocal as Dick’s keen when he presses a slicked finger in alongside the already impressive girth. His fingernails curl into his palms, wrists jerking once in the cuffs as Jason works the digit in, stroking down the hot walls of the man’s passage. 

Dick’s breathing is hard and audible in the small room, his skin searing hot when Jason lays a palm across the small of his back. 

“Fuck, Dickie,” he hisses when his finger disappears, to a thin whimper. He teases that puffy, stretched rim with the next, tracing over the sensitive flesh before he dips inside. “You really gonna take all three of my fingers, hmm?” 

“The slut will take as many as he’s given,” Slade growls, rocking into him, forcing Jason’s digits deeper as Dick whines loud and trembles. He’s not sure how much longer Dick’s legs can hold him, but Slade doesn’t seem to care, thumbs working bruises into the man’s hips as he thrusts once into the man’s heat. 

It’s such a strange sensation, feeling Slade’s cock glide past his fingers, wrapped tight in the warmth of Dick’s passage, that Jason finds himself gasping. He shifts in the next moment, angling his wrist to press his last and smallest finger in, curling the digits to wrap loosely around Slade’s shaft. 

Slade grunts his approval and fucks forward again, gliding through the ring of Jason’s fingers to hit Dick’s prostate. The acrobat wails, breaths coming hard and fast now, his legs in a constant state of shaking as he religiously holds the position he’s been given. 

Jason’s gut clenches at the sight of him, at the feel of them both pressing back against his fingers. He wonders, just briefly- 

“Go on, boy,” Slade purrs around a mouthful of teeth, and fucks into Dick again to punctuate the sentiment. “He can take it.” 

Mouth dry, Jason eases his fingers in further, ever-so-slow, past Dick’s straining rim. His knuckles catch, and for a moment, Jason doesn’t think it will fit. When he grips Slade tighter, knuckles protruding, both men hiss and arch into his touch. There’s a moment’s resistance, before Dick gives and Jason’s whole fist slides into the man. 

It steals his breath, makes Jason lightheaded with the realisation that he’s jacking Slade off _inside_ Dick. When he moves, the ridges of his knuckles scraping down the inside of the man’s walls the barest inch, Dick tenses and shouts, rocking back into his grip as he comes. 

Jason watches Dick paint the tile, all of him clenching tight as they both still inside him. Just watching their little bird ride the wave through. 

When he finishes, Slade’s hands are there to keep him upright, all of Dick bending in two as he slumps towards the tile, spent. Jason holds position for another few breathless heartbeats. 

And then Slade is thrusting forward again, ignoring Dick’s vocal protests as he assaults the man’s overwhelmed body. 

“We haven’t had our turn yet, little bird,” Slade growls, and it spurs Jason to start moving again, pumping the man’s cock slowly as he pounds into Dick’s trembling hole. “And we aren’t stopping just because you’re a little oversensitive.” 

Dick wails, panting hard as they hold him steady, a hand each on his hips and Slade’s grip tight on his cuffs. His bare feet slide on the tile, knocking Jason’s boots as his knees buckle and Slade doesn’t stop. 

Through the haze fogging Jason’s senses, he’s aware of Dick pleading, tears running down his cheeks as he shudders and shakes through Slade’s rough, indifferent pounding. Jason’s not even wholly convinced Slade’s doing it for himself, and not just to torment the man shattering beneath them. 

He does slow though, after a moment, for Dick to catch his breath. 

The acrobat is flushed, all of him stretched to exertion as he sways over the tile, slack and open. Slade bends to kiss the ridges of his spine, drawing a weak moan from Dick before he murmurs, “Going to move you now, little bird. Hold tight for me.” 

Jason’s already withdrawing his fist, pulling back as Slade shifts to hook an arm around Dick’s waist and haul him off his feet. Dick goes easily, too worn out to protest as Slade pivots to drop them both back onto the stool, rearranging the man in his lap. 

Dick slumps against him immediately, head lolling over his shoulder. Jason can see the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he approaches, runs his fingers down the sweat-streaked flesh as he crowds him. 

Dick’s eyes slip open then to drink him in, smiling weakly when Jason bends to loop his arms under Dick’s knees. He acquiesces to the movement, letting them manhandle him as Jason presses between his shivering thighs. 

He settles Dick’s calves in the crooks of his elbows, bracing his hands on Slade’s shoulders as he meets the mercenary’s gaze. Asking for permission perhaps, though he knows Slade’s already given it to him. 

“Oh holy fuck,” Dick curses, eyes wide as he watches Jason feed his cock past his overstretched rim. His shoulders twitch, bangles jangling where they’re pressed between his and Slade’s bodies as Jason pushes slowly inward. 

The pressure is excruciating, the clench of Dick’s heat around him as Jason rocks in nearly too much to bear. It’s only the look of wonder on Dick’s face and Slade gentle encouragement that sees him through, and then Jason’s in. 

They all pause there, breaths audible in the narrow spaces between their bodies as they acclimatise. Jason soothes his thumbs over Dick’s hipbones when the man’s legs start to tremble where they’re hooked over Jason’s elbows. 

“Little wing, please,” Dick says, breath shuddering out of his lungs as he tilts his head back against Slade’s shoulder. “ _Please_ move.” 

Jason adjusts his grip on the man’s hips, ensuring he’s pinned tight to Slade’s larger body before he rocks back and thrusts in. Dick shouts, loud and unquenchable, lashes pressing shut as the sensation rips through him. 

Jason doesn’t hesitate, working into a stunted rhythm. Everything is so incredibly tight; he’s barely able to move with how Dick holds them both. It becomes nearly impossible when Slade reaches down and smacks the bared flesh of Dick’s inner thigh. 

A scream tears from the little bird’s lungs, all of him clenching down on them, squirming deliciously when Slade lands an identical spank to the other. Jason stares, mesmerised, as red blooms across his skin, Dick’s squirming cut abruptly short when he finds himself trapped and just slumps against them to weather his punishment. 

Jason focuses on fucking into that tight heat with what little leverage he’s allowed while Slade paints Dick’s thighs with the palms of his hands, growling harsh little degradations into the bird’s crooked ear. 

Dick looks overwhelmed, all of him drawn to focus on the point where they all meet, jumping and twitching with every slap Slade lands as Jason rocks into him. Jason’s almost impressed when his spent, half-hard cock stirs with interest. It must be raw and oversensitive, the pleasure bordering on harsh pain, but Dick weathers it between mewling sobs. 

It doesn’t take much before Jason’s coming, spilling into Dick as he stutters to a halt, burying his cock as deep in Dick’s ass as he can manage with Slade already filling the man’s passage. 

Slade’s quick to follow suit, a grunt preceding the way the man tenses and thrusts in beside Jason, drawing a shout from his lungs at the overstimulation. Dick doesn’t move through the pleasurable ordeal, moaning long and low as they empty inside him. 

When they’re done, Jason lowers his forehead to rest against Dick’s collarbones. Gives himself the reprieve to catch his breath even as he reaches down to circle Dick’s stiffening cock with his fist. 

The little bird whines so sweetly, but Jason hears no sound of protest as he jacks the acrobat hard and fast. Massaging his thumb into Dick’s slit until the man is rutting down on their cocks and coming weakly. 

Jason kisses down the length of the man’s sternum, whispering soft praises into his warm skin as Slade kisses the corner of his jaw. Slade’s the one to ease Dick’s legs off Jason’s arms, rubbing the feeling back into the limbs as he unhooks them. Dick frets a little at the treatment, more for the overstimulation on his prostate than out of any real discomfort, Jason suspects. 

They lay there a while, half-slumped against Slade, until the man instructs Jason to wet one of the towels under the faucet. 

He does it without question, kneeling down to wipe Dick clean with slow, attentive motions. Kissing the bruised, agitated flesh of his thighs as Slade unbinds his wrists and presses lips to his forehead. 

Dick looks relieved, and more fucked out than Jason’s ever seen him. He looks ready to drop, were it not for Slade’s firm arm around his waist and Jason’s reassuring touches between his legs. 

When he’s clean enough to be passable, Slade holds him steady for Jason to slide his pants back up, careful of the sensitive skin on his thighs as he pulls the leather over them. Dick’s stirring by the time Slade shifts him forward to rehook the straps of his shirt, kissing the knob of his spine when he’s finished tying the bow there. 

He still looks a wreck, hair a tousled mess and eyeliner running. Jason’s fairly confident they can get the hair back to passable again; Dick’s never had a problem pulling off the windswept look. But he makes sure to wet a fresh towel before he cleans off the man’s make up, holding Dick’s gaze until he comes to. 

When he does, the light flaring in those tired blue eyes, it’s to wrap a hand around Jason’s neck and pull him deep into his kiss. Slade chuckles above them, a steady presence at their backs when they come up for air. 

“Feeling alright, big bird?” Jason asks around a grin, and Dick laughs softly. 

“I feel _tired,_ ” he admits. Lifts Slade’s free hand to kiss the knuckles there. “But yes, I feel good.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Slade murmurs into his hairline. Jason pushes to his feet. 

They’re interrupted by a sharp, hesitant knock on the bathroom door, all their heads swivelling to address the intrusion. Someone clears their throat, and then reluctantly calls through the wood, “Sirs, your, uh. Your meals are getting cold.” 

“We’ll be right out,” Slade answers evenly, and Jason admires his candor. 

They wait for the shuffle of retreating footsteps before Jason offers a hand to help Dick to his feet. 

“Somehow I don’t think they’re going to let us reserve a table here again,” Dick admits around a sharp grin, letting Jason steady him with a hand around his hips. 

Slade pushes to his feet, reaching for the door handle. “We could just buy the place.” 

“I don’t think the wait staff deserve that,” Jason laughs, and follows them back out into the restaurant. "But at least it made for a memorable evening." 

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah)


End file.
